When I first starting reading this novel, I wasn't sure I could finish. I shared some of the horrib....horribly creative quotes via status updates in the beginning. There whole sentences that I couldn't make heads or tails of.
Like this little ditty:
"A yellowish-red glow became her sun, a light shining through the darkness, warming her pleasantly and giving her comfort. It was the focal point of her reality, a nurturing sphere of fire and flame, a sun that refused to die. Its energy burst in tiny, flaring sparks that arched and fell, hissing into oblivion, only to be followed again and again by the same crackling display of colored fire. Green, blue, red, yellow fanned upward in an undulating array of hues, expanding from a base of white-hot heat."
I'm sorry, I forgot what we were even talking about.
About halfway through, I realized that I was no longer scratching my head and that I understood what I was reading without hiccupping on awkward phrasing and purpl-y prose. At that point I thought something had gone horribly wrong with me, as if comprehending and enjoying the overly flowery narrative was some type catching literary VD, sans the burning.
Even with the work of digging through all those words, I found that I really enjoyed the great story. The plot was very intricately woven and there were a multitude of characters. Though the conclusion was obvious, it was a great joy to watch the Erienne sort out her feelings and come to her own conclusions. And the best thing is that she was no simpering miss and a great match for Lord Saxton, a man bent on revenge. I whole heartedly give my nod to a piece of writing that shaped the genre that we know today. They don't write romances like this anymore, for sure.
It was worth the read.
(Oh...except for the part where the author calls a gaping gunshot wound 'his oblivion". As in 'fingers poking around his oblivion'. Sorry KW, I can't get on board with that...)